


Choking On Your Alibis

by can_i_slytherin



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mean Deadpool Thought Boxes, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:20:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22793896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/can_i_slytherin/pseuds/can_i_slytherin
Summary: Peter gets jealous. He and Wade argue. They make up.*WARNING* This contains suicidal thoughts- if this is a trigger for you, read at your own discretionI have no idea how good this is. I just had an idea and ran with it.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 137





	Choking On Your Alibis

**Author's Note:**

> Italics- White  
> Bold- Yellow
> 
> Peter is 23  
> Wade is 28

Peter got jealous, that much was true. He was only human after all and with a boyfriend like Wade Wilson aka Deadpool aka the Merc with a Mouth aka the man who would flirt with a cat if it looked at him for long enough. 

Normally he wouldn’t care, he’d just shrug it off and move on with his life, but lately it was getting to him. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he was certain it had something to do with his own insecurities. 

Vanessa. Wade’s ex-girlfriend. A very attractive woman with a tight body and a i’ll-take-none-of-your-shit attitude; Wade’s perfect partner. They had broken up for reasons that weren’t disclosed to Peter;  _ it was amicable and that’s all you need to know,  _ Wade had told him and if that didn’t make him feel uneasy then nothing would. 

They were both natural flirts, bouncing off each other like a bouncy ball off a wall. Their banter was seamless, natural and took years of dating to perfect. Nothing would ever come of it, Peter knew that much, but a deep, dark part of him whispered:  _ what if?  _

It should have been a night for them. Just a normal date night, at a normal bar, drinking normal drinks. But then, Vanessa had waltzed in with a group of her girlfriends and Wade had been gone at the first sight of the woman. 

Peter narrowed his eyes at the mercenary’s back as he retreated, gaze flicking between the man and his now empty seat, a disapproving growl tumbling from his lips. 

“Damien!” Peter called out to the bartender, an old friend of his from college, and held up his beer, “Gimme something strong, please?” 

“Sure thing, Pete.” Damien set about making Peter a stronger drink and the brunet turned back to watch Wade, now sitting in a booth across the other side of the bar with the group of women. 

“You okay?” Damien’s voice sounded in his ear and Peter slowly nodded his head, downing the last dregs of his beer before he set the empty bottle down on the table, fingers curling around the glass that Damien thrust into his open palm. 

Peter stared down at the amber-coloured liquid and cocked his head to the side, “What is it?” 

“Long Island Iced Tea.” The bartender laughed when Peter made a motion for him to continue, “It’s Vodka, Tequila, Rum, Triple Sec, Gin and Coke- heavy on the spirits, light on the coke. It ought to be strong enough.” 

Peter held back the remark about nothing being strong enough, deciding that he’d rather not reveal his secret identity, and closed his lip around the straw, taking a lengthy sip of the drink. He grinned at the burn of alcohol that hit the back of his throat and settled in his stomach, warming his inside. 

“That’s good,” He rasped, “why haven’t I tried this before?” 

“You haven’t had me as your bartender.” Damien retorted, a playful smirk on his lips.

Peter tipped his glass towards him, smiling softly, “True.” 

“So,” Damien leant forward, resting his forearm against the bartop, “you wanna talk about what’s got you so bothered?” 

Peter arched an eyebrow, taking a long sip of his drink, before he nodded towards Wade and the group of women, “Wade.” He grumbled, like that was all the explanation that he needed, and chuckled when the blond threw him an expectant look, "You see the woman on his right? Tanned skin, hair in a bun?" Damien nodded, "That's his ex-girlfriend." 

The man recoiled, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline, "He's awful close to her." 

Peter snorted into his glass, "You're telling me."

His gaze drifted back over to the table, narrowing his eyes when Wade laughed, throwing his head back and curling his arm around Vanessa's shoulders. He leant into her side, his gaze falling to the spot where their skin touched, and his expression softened, a light in his eyes that was certainly not platonic. 

Peter's chest constricted, his lungs burning and eyes stinging as a lump formed in his throat, trying to remember the last time that Wade had looked at him like that. 

"Pete?" Damien's voice sounded in his ear, far away and muffled- like he was underwater. 

"I need to go." He muttered, slamming a twenty-dollar bill on the bar top and turning in his seat, stopping when a hand laid on his shoulder. 

"It's just started raining, you can't walk home in that." He whispered, concern riddling his voice. 

"I can and I will. I need to get out of here." Peter whimpered, tears threatening to fall, "I can't be here while he's with her, giving her that look. Looking like he wants to be with her, like he misses her." 

Damien frowned, "Let me drive you home, then." 

Peter chuckled, laying a hand on his wrist, "You're a good friend, 'Mi." 

The blond shrugged, a gentle smile crossing his lips, "It's nothing. So, how about that lift?" 

Peter looked thoughtful, chewing on his lip before nodding, "You sure?" 

"Yeah, I can get Alesha to cover me until I get back. We're not that busy tonight." Damien reached down, tugging off his lap-apron, "I'll be right back. Just gotta get my jacket." He disappeared into a room outback for a second before reappearing, tugging on a leather jacket and swinging a set of keys around his index finger. "Ready?" 

Peter nodded and stood up, legs shaking as he put his weight on them. Damien walked out from behind the bar and fell into step beside Peter leading him towards the door which, unfortunately, was next to the table that Wade was sitting at. 

As Peter reached for the door handle, Wade's confused voice rang out over the music, "Petey?" 

The brunet froze, knuckles whitening on the handle as he tightened his grip, and turned to Wade, breath catching in his throat at the scene in front of him. 

Vanessa was practically in Wade's lap, a leg thrown over his thighs, and Wade had his hand resting high on her thigh, fingers splayed out across the flesh. 

Peter growled, his heart dropping into the pit of his stomach, and swallowed harshly around the lump in his throat, trying and failing to draw air into his lungs. His breaths came out in short gasps and his vision blurred with tears. He hastily shook his head as he backed away from his boyfriend and turned on his heel, marching out of the bar whilst ignoring Wade's pleas for him to stop. 

"You okay, Pete?" Damien asked, his voice soft and quiet, careful not to break Peter's loose hold on his emotions. 

"Can you just take me home, please? I wanna go home." Peter whimpered, bottom lip quivering as he worked to hold back his tears. He pulled up his collar, ducking his head into his coat to shield him from the rain. 

"Yeah, sure. My car is this way." Damien whispered, laying a gentle hand between Peter's shoulder blades to lead him to the car. 

"Pete!" Wade's yelled out, sounding urgent and scared. Peter froze mid stride but shook his head, lengthening his strides to put more distance between him and his lover. 

"Petey! Please, stop!" 

A flare of anger settled in his stomach, heating his insides, and he whirled around, eyes ablaze with rage, "Fuck. Off." 

Through the curtain of red, Peter saw that Wade was standing in the rain in nothing but a t-shirt and his heart momentarily warmed until an image of Vanessa plastered over his boyfriend flashed in his mind, his anger increasing tenfold. 

"No, I'm not leaving until you talk to me." Wade argued, taking a step towards Peter. 

The brunet took a step back and shook his head, hardening his gaze and squaring his shoulders, "Looks like you're staying here then because I have nothing to say to you."

Peter turned on his heel, blocking out Wade's calls to him, and climbed into Damien's car, mentioning for his friend to start driving. 

The journey to his and Wade's apartment was short and gave Peter little time to ruminate on the pre-argument that he and Wade had had outside the bar. Damien pulled up to the building and shut off the car, turning to face the brunet. 

"Are you going to be okay on your own?" He questioned. 

Peter smiled and nodded, "I'll be fine, thank you for driving me home, 'Mi. It means a lot." 

Damien shrugged, "What are friends for, right?" He looked thoughtful for a minute before grabbing a pen from the cup holder and scrawling a set of numbers across a scrap of paper, "You ever need anything, throw me a text and I'll be there."

Peter plucked the paper from the blond's fingers and grinned, hand curling around the door handle, "Thank you." 

"I hope you sort it out, Pete. I can tell that you really love Wade and I'd hate to see a relationship like yours end." 

Peter pushed the car door open, turning to look over his shoulder at his friend, and sighed heavily, trying to keep a tight lid on his emotions, "Same here. I'll see you around, 'Mi."

"See you." 

Peter softly shut the door behind him and walked over to the entrance to his apartment, pushing into the lobby with a heavy heart. He headed towards the lift, trying to keep his thoughts away from the argument at the bar but failed miserably and found himself struggling to keep his tears at bay. 

The lift doors opened and Peter stepped inside, leaning against the wall as he took deep, measured breaths, trying to keep control at least until he got inside his apartment. 

The ride up to the fourth floor seemed to take an eternity and when the lift finally stopped, Peter stumbled towards his flat, hands shaking as he fumbled to get the key in the lock. He pushed into his home and threw his keys on the side table, kicking the door shut behind him. 

He took a step into the living room and froze, gaze flicking through the items sprawled across the space. Wade's jumper slung over the arm of the sofa; their blanket crumpled on the floor beside the coffee table; Whiskey's dog bed pressed into the corner, under the windowsill. 

The lingering domesticity hit Peter harder than it normally would and his carefully crafted walls began to crumble, setting his emotions free like water from a dam. He collapsed, falling to his knees, and buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking as he let his tears fall. 

Suddenly, a wet nose pressed against his ear, followed by a lick along his cheek, and Peter chucked, a wet sounding noise more similar to a sob. He turned his head, staring at their Newfoundland through tear-filled eyes, and buried his face in Whiskey's fur, fingers curling around the strands. 

Whiskey pushed against him, climbing into Peter's lap despite his size, and rested his chin on Peter's shoulder. The superhero chuckled, feeling marginally better after the comfort from his companion, and snapped his head to the door when it creaked open. 

“What are you doing here? Thought you’d still be with Vanessa.” Peter snapped, standing from his place on the floor, and wiped away any evidence of tears from his cheeks, sending Whiskey into the bedroom so the animal wouldn’t witness the argument about to happen.

“I wanted to be here for you.” Wade whispered, moving to sit down on the sofa with Peter but stopped when the brunet placed a hand on his chest, shaking his head. 

“You're soaked. You'll make the couch wet." He explained. 

Wade shrugged, "I'll buy a new one. You're more important to me at the moment."

Peter huffed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, "That's not how it seemed at the bar." 

Wade recoiled, like he'd been burnt, and gave a sad smile, "I'm sorry." 

Peter snorted in disbelief, "You think that's going to solve it? That you're going to apologise and I'm just going to forgive you for ditching me for your  _ ex-girlfriend? _ " 

“Of course not, what I did tonight was unforgivable.” The mercenary whispered and scooted closer, whimpering in pain when Peter shuffled away. 

“Why? That’s all I want to know is why.” The younger man whispered, his voice tight with emotion. 

“I don’t know.” Wade looked down at his feet, his heart in his throat, and shook his head, “I was so caught up in seeing her again after her impromptu travelling that I forgot.” 

“About me?” Peter whispered, brows pulled together in pain, and his chest constricted painfully, “That makes me feel so much better, thanks.” 

Wade’s head snapped up at the wet-sounding laugh and cooed painfully when Peter buried his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking with tears, “I’m so sorry, Pete. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

“It’s not good enough, Wade,” Peter yelled, launching himself to his feet and vaulting over the armchair to be near the window, “You  _ forgot  _ about your  _ boyfriend  _ because your  _ ex-girlfriend  _ came home. How is that supposed to make me feel?! Like shit! That’s how it made me feel, Wade!” 

“Baby Boy…” Wade breathed, tears gathering in his eyes. 

“Don’t you dare fucking  _ Baby Boy  _ me right now!” Peter hissed, wiping angrily at his eyes, “You fucking lost your right to that nickname.” 

Wade recoiled, his heart hammering painfully against his chest, “What?” 

“You can’t just call me pet names and expect me to just show my belly and forgive you, not after what you did!” 

Wade scoffed, “You’re acting like I cheated on you! You're blowing this out of proportion!” 

Peter's eyes darkened dangerously, “I suppose I am, right? I  _ must  _ be blowing this out of proportion, right? Because, you know, it’s totally fine that your  _ ex-girlfriend  _ was plastering herself all over you like some back-alley sally!” Peter yelled, crossing his arms over his chest, “It’s definitely okay that you were looking at her like she hung the moon! It’s  _ completely  _ fine that you looked like you didn’t want to be anywhere but with her!” When he spoke again his voice was dangerously low and emotionless, “So, if you want to be with her so much, why don’t you just turn around and go back to her? Forget about me and the life that we built together, go back to her like you obviously want to.” 

“That’s not what I want and you know it.” Wade replied, shaking his head and taking a deep breath as his voice wavered, breaking on every word, “I don’t want anyone but you.” 

“That’s not what it seems like.” Peter whispered, his voice small and insecure. 

"Pete…" Wade whispered, his voice soft and low as he took a step towards his boyfriend, "What's going on in that beautiful brain of yours?" 

Peter laughed, dry and humourless, "What's it matter to you?" 

"You're my boyfriend, I love you and I care about you." Wade whispered, taking another carefully measured step towards the younger man. 

Peter arched an eyebrow, narrowing his eyed as Wade stepped closer, but didn't move away, "Do you?" 

Wade made a noise of sadness in his throat, "Of course I do. Why would you say that?" Wade went silent, a far off look in his eyes, "Yes, I see that, thank you. But, kindly shut up, White."

Peter's heart warmed at the flash of vulnerability, but shook his head, re-erecting his walls, "I don't know, Wade, why would I think that?" 

"Tonight at the bar." Wade whispered, averting his gaze, "Vanessa and I were too touchy-feely." 

"Gold star for Deadpool." Peter crawled sarcastically. 

"That meant nothing." Wade replied without missing a beat, "She means nothing." 

"I think she does, Wade, because you don't look at your friends like you want nothing more than to kiss them. Especially not your ex-turned-friend and  _ definitely _ not when your boyfriend is in the same bar!" Peter yelled, tears gathering in his eyes, and took a deep breath, trying to regain control of his emotions. 

“That’s not what it was, not at all, Pete.” Wade whispered, hastily shaking his head, a sad smile painted across his lips. 

“Really? ‘Cause that’s not how it looked from where I was sat.” Peter’s voice shook and he clenched his teeth, hands curling into fists at his sides. 

“Bab-” Wade frowned, eyes sparkling with pain, and shook his head, taking a deep breath, “I mean, Peter. I don’t… What do I-? How do I help? How do I make you feel better?” 

“You don’t.” Peter crossed his arms over his chest, “This is something that I need to sort through by myself.” The brunet sighed heavily and stood up, “I need a moment.” 

“I’ll give you all the time you need.” Wade’s eyes fluttered shut and he shook his head, breath coming out in short pants, “I love you, Pete, and I will wait for as long as you need.” 

Peter nodded sharply and headed towards the door, “Don’t wait up.” 

Wade inhaled harshly, “I- Peter?” The superhero froze on the threshold, “Are we okay?” 

Peter went rigid before he shrugged his shoulders and shut the door behind him, disappearing into the hallway. 

Wade stared at the closed door for an infinite amount of time, hoping that Peter would open the door again, but pulled himself from his reverie when it was clear that Peter had gone. 

_ He’s gone for good, you know? He’s not going to come back.  _

“Shut up.” Wade whispered, linking his hands behind his head, “He’s not. He just needs time.” 

**Yeah, time to think about how to break up with you.**

“Stop it.” Wade croaked, throat tightening at the thought of Peter leaving him, “He won’t, he won’t. He just needs time to calm down.” 

_ Just admit it, Wade. You know that it was too good to be true. You know, deep down, that Peter doesn’t really love you.  _

“He does. He does.” Wade cried, tears pouring down his cheeks, and hastily shook his head, trying to shut the boxes up. 

**He doesn’t. He’s only with you for your money, I mean, look at you. Who would want to be with someone that looks as disgusting as you?**

“NO!” Wade screamed, fingernails digging into the skin at the back of his head, “Petey doesn’t mind the scars. He doesn’t mind them.” 

_ He does, Wade. He hates them. He repulsed, disgusted. He hates the way they look.  _

“He doesn’t, he doesn’t.” Wade replied, repeating it like a mantra, “He loves me, he loves me.” 

_ You’re so naive. So stupid. You honestly believe that he loves you?  _

**Even if he did, he definitely wouldn’t after what you did tonight. Letting Vanessa hang off you like that, Wade? Rookie mistake. He’ll leave you- he doesn’t want you anymore.**

_ He deserves better. That guy that he left the bar with would be good for him. Hmm, yes. Definitely. He’s certainly more attractive than you are. I bet he could give it to Peter good too.  _

“SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!” Wade screamed, clawing at the back of his head, tearing into the skin, and tried to ignore the blood that trickled down the back of his neck from the open wounds. 

**You can’t shut us up, Wade. We’re always here.**

_ Not forever, at least. Why don’t you get one of your guns, Wade? Load it up and empty it into your skull? That ought to do the job.  _

“STOP. I WON’T. I WON’T.” Wade cried, clawing harder at the back of his head, “PLEASE, STOP.” 

**Just do it, Wade. You’ll feel better.**

“I won’t.” He whispered weakly, his hands falling limp by his sides as he tried to steady his breathing. 

_ Do it.  _

**Just do it.**

_ You know you want to.  _

Wade shook his head, “I won’t do that to Pete. I won’t.” 

_ He doesn’t care about you, Wade. So, you might as well.  _

“No, I can do this. I can hold out. We’ll get through this. We aren’t going to break up. He loves me. I love him. I won’t give up without a fight. I won’t- he’s everything to me and I can’t lose him." 

_ You lost him the moment he walked out of that door.  _

"I didn't" Wade whimpered, bottom lip trembling, "You're lying. You're lying!"

"Wade?" The voice sounded through the apartment, distant and quiet, and Wade couldn't identify the person that it belonged to, "... okay…? … breathe… me? … hear me?" 

"No! I can't. I can't. He loves me! I know he loves me! Stop, please!" Wade cried, burying his head in his hands. 

"Shit." There was a loud thud and Wade flinched, curling into himself. 

The sounds of footsteps crossed the apartment and someone crouched in front of Wade, a hand on his knee, "... me. Listen… Give me… hand." 

Long, slender fingers curled around Wade's wrist, pulling his hand away from his face and resting it over a warm chest, the heart beneath thumping gently against his fingertips. 

"Feel… heart?" The man whispered, "... here… back… me." 

Wade lifted his head, staring at the figure before him with blurred vision, "Who…? Where's Bab- I mean, Pete." 

The chuckle that followed was one that Wade could identify without fail, "I'm right here, Wade. It's me." 

Wade scrubbed at his eyes with his free hand, curling his fingers around Peter's shirt, "No." He shook his head, "I'm seeing things. You left. You walked away. The boxes…" 

Peter settled his hand over Wade's, coaxing his grip away from his shirt, and linked their fingers, squeezing them, "What about the boxes?" 

"They said that…" Wade shuddered, shaking his head, "It doesn't matter." 

"No, it does. Tell me." Peter insisted. 

"They said that you didn't love me. That you were gone for good. That I'd messed up. They said that you'd never loved me. That you never liked my scars. I'm ugly and gross. Disgusting, revolting." The mercenary relayed, his throat constricting with every word. 

"Wade…" Peter soothed, rubbing his thumb across his knuckles, "Of course I love you and I'm not going anywhere, I'm staying right here. Wade, your scars aren't ugly- not to me. They make you… well,  _ you.  _ You might be scarred, but you're still so handsome. I mean, Lord help me, you have  _ washboard  _ abs, biceps for days and  _ thick  _ thighs. I mean, damn, Wade, your body should be illegal with the things that it does to me." Peter gently poked Wade in the chest, grinning triumphantly when the man snorted and slapped his hand away, "Don't even get me started on your personality. I have never met someone that matches my sarcasm and wit like you do. You're so funny and smart and kind and caring. You're protective and a  _ touch  _ the wrong side of crazy, but it makes me love you even more. Those boxes, Wade, they're wrong because I, Peter Parker, your Baby Boy, love you more than I have ever loved anyone. You're my  _ everything _ and I am  _ never  _ letting you go,  _ never ever ever. _ " 

By the end of Peter's speech, Wade was in tears again but this time in happiness. 

"I thought I'd lost you, Baby Boy. You were so angry and hurt and I thought:  _ this is it. This is where it ends _ . Then the boxes started going off at me and I just broke because I can't lose you, Webs.  _ Never ever ever.  _ You mean too much to me." Wade gushed, his heart swelling when Peter grinned at him. 

"I was angry and I was hurt, I'll admit that much. But, I spoke to Nat and Tony and they talked me down, explained to me what you might have been thinking and I suppose, in a way, made me forgive you. I want to sort this out, Wade. I can't lose you either." Peter explained, "I'm not saying it's going to be easy because there will be moments like this again, but I trust that we can get through them, just as we got through this one." 

"Baby Boy…" The mercenary breathed, hands snaking up to cup Peter's cheeks, staring into the younger man's brown irises, "I want to… Can I…? Will you…?"

Peter smirked and nodded, leaning forward to press their lips together, humming into the kiss. Wade splayed a hand across the back of Peter's neck and wrapped his free arm around his waist, pulling him off the floor and into his lap. 

Peter groaned happily and settled into Wade's lap, throwing his arms around the mercenary's shoulders. He pulled away after a moment, resting his forehead against Wade's, his chest heaving with every breath. 

A little chuckle escaped Wade's mouth and Peter made a noise of amusement, keeping his eyes shut as he spoke, "What?" 

"Oh, nothing." Wade whispered, "Just thinking that the best part of arguing is that we get to have make-up sex after." 

Wade settled his hands under Peter's thighs and stood up with him, laughing into his neck when the superhero gave a shocked squeak, hands coming to grip at Wade's shoulders. 

"There he is." Peter whispered, pressing a sloppy kiss to Wade's cheek as the other man carried him into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

Despite not saying it aloud, Peter had to admit that make-up sex was the best part of arguing.


End file.
